Shatter
by Little Miss Agape
Summary: One fateful night at the 2016 Grand Prix, Otabek Altin sees a side of Yurio he never knew existed. But in the long run, he prevents a heartbreaking disaster. Maybe his little soldier isn't as together as he seems...
1. Author's Note

**Dear Readers,**

 **This story is very significant to me. It is incredibly personal. In a fit of depression roughly two months ago, I wrote this. It helped me calm down and not do anything I would later regret. That said, it contains triggers. Namely an eating disorder, suicide, self-harm, self hate, and swearing.**

 **At first, I wrote this as a third person, non-character specific story. However after character analysis, theorizing, and using basic knowledge, I altered it to a suicidal Yuri Plisetsky. He is a character i love very much.**

 **Constructive criticism will be accepted but no pointless hate will be tolerated. Understood?**

 **I did some research to keep a few things accurate. The Barcelona GPF took place in 2015 (When Yuri was 15). The 2016 GPF is taking place in Marseille, France (which would make Yuri 16).**

 **I hope you find some like to this story and re3spect me as an author. Thank you all for reading this.**

 **Sincerely,**

 _ **Little Miss Agape**_


	2. Chapter One

**TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide, Eating Disorder, Self Harm, Implied Gay Couple**

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Bright moonlight fell onto the rooftop of a beautiful hotel near Marseille.

Pale, blonde hair brushed across tear-tracked cheeks. Eyes, a beautiful blue-green that took the breath of most, were filled with tears that silently spilled over

It took so much to bring him to this state. But at this point, he couldn't take it.

The stars shimmered like glitter above his head. A cold breeze ruffled the clothing that hung too loose from a small body.

It was heartbreaking to think about. How pressure could make some of the people with the worst morals and personality into things of pure beauty. Only for pressure to turn right around and completely shatter the young and innocent, to absolutely destroy those with hearts of gold.

Maybe that was why he fell so hard. He held his anxiety and his hurt in the deepest corners of his broken mind. And he was so young…

* * *

Clearly, he could recall many nights where he'd break down crying. He'd hide in his room, or the bathroom, running the shower to dissolve his cries and tears. Many nights where he'd surrendered to a blade or been compelled to bring up what simply wasn't in his system.

And yet, despite his self-induced shattering, he never said a word. Never. He hid behind annoyance and anger, using it to hide everything. He refused to let anyone in now. He wouldn't let himself be so stupid again to let someone else know.

Light, silent footsteps wandered to the risen edge of the rooftop. It served as a barrier, so rooftop visitors wouldn't fall. Huh, ironic.

The blonde was a mere sixteen years of age. And yet he was moving closer and closer to the half portion of a cement wall. He sighed as he placed a hand, small and bony, against the cement, slowly brushing his palm over it.

Everyone had their limits. Everyone did. But then there were those who pushed themselves so far past their limits that it shattered them completely.

This was the shattering point.

* * *

He'd only been a few thirteen years old when he had first started slipping.

Two years until his senior debut if all went well. He was _so_ excited to compete in the big leagues, to compete with Viktor. He could go to the Grand Prix. He was excited to do so. He wanted it desperately.

But he knew senior skaters needed to maintain certain body images. They had to look good in what they performed in. And pull off amazing performances. Yuri knew this.

In all of his naivety, he figured to get a head start on losing unnecessary weight. He cut back on some of the things he ate.

At first, he didn't completely stop eating. But as time wore on, his meals became less and less. Simply brushing it off as previously eating or not being incredibly hungry. But lack of food gradually made him lose focus. It wore down his energy. So he made himself eat a bit more. But it was things like fruits and vegetables. Things that didn't have much of anything to give him excess weight.

Though there were times he would completely forget about his strict eating habits or was pressured into eating. These were the times he found himself in trouble. But he handled those situations in various ways.

Mainly, he drank diluted saltwater to cause himself to throw up. And typically, that was the best approach. Materials were easily accessible and there wasn't much cleanup from making it.

And it wasn't much of a struggle. He could handle it in hotels, at home, anywhere he ate too much.

Though that was where he got into trouble. Lots of it.

He'd been forced to go with Viktor to a Grand Prix assignment when he was merely fourteen.

After much persuasion, Yuri had surrendered to going out with Viktor and Mila for dinner. And that was a fatal mistake.

Lost in conversation, Yuri wasn't paying much attention to how much he had eaten.

"Must've been hungry, you ate a lot more than i've seen you eat lately." Had been Viktor's comment when they left the restaurant.

"Yeah, I swear, you never eat." Mila had laughed.

They were startlingly accurate. But of course, Yuri didn't say anything like that.

Later, he found himself pacing his hotel room. He had already made the saltwater for later, because he knew no matter how much he fought himself, he'd end up tossing his dinner.

Inner turmoil took over the next hour. Maybe he shouldn't do this. Not tonight. Maybe he should just let it be for the night. Maybe...not.

Going against his better judgement, Yuri went back into the bathroom, drinking some of the salt water as he turned on the shower to drown out the sound of his heaving that would soon follow. After a bit, he felt nauseous. So he fell to his knees.

This scene was too familiar to Yuri. It burned as the saltwater and food came back up. This was so familiar. Tears of pain and hurt and inner self hate for not having control tonight fell down Yuri's pale cheeks.

This was too familiar.

Until, suddenly, Yuri felt hands on his back and fingers brush back his bangs.

After ten minutes, the vomiting and dry heaving tapered off. For some time, the only sounds were Yuri's panting breaths and the shower water hitting the tub.

Then the water was turned off.

Yuri spoke first.

"Get the hell out…"

Stern as he wanted to seem, his voice trembles with pants and tears.

"Not likely." Viktor said softly

Yuri turned to look at him. The blonde could not mistake Viktor's worried gaze toward the sink where two bottles of pills were.

A startled yelp cut off any words that would soon be said.

"Is he decent?"

This voice was Mila. And it came from the hotel room.

"Yeah, come in." Viktor said.

Mila came in holding Yuri's bathroom bag.

"Yuri, can you possibly explain why i found half a dozen razor blades, packets of salt, and a near empty bottle of sleeping pills in your bag." Mila questioned immediately

Viktor looked to Yuri, then to Mila, then to the counter. "Yuri, what are those, on the sink, the orange bottles?"

"They're prescriptions." Yuri replied vaguely, leaning back against the bathtub.

"For what? What are they?" Viktor asks

"Mila, why were you going through my things?" Yuri questioned, ignoring Viktor's questions

"I knocked it over and these fell out." Mila said, Sitting on the bathroom floor, across from Viktor and Yuri.

Viktor reached over Yuri to flush the toilet.

"Answer Viktor's questions." Mila orders "What are the medications and why do you have them."

Yuri sighed, giving up "Celexa, guanfacine." He answered "Antidepressant and anxiety medication."

"Yuri...You're on- but- no… you can't… but… oh." Mila stammered

"Anxiety and depression? Yuri why didn't you say anything…." Viktor asks, looking down at Yuri, rubbing his shoulder "Fucking hell you're so thin." Viktor mumbled

"I didn't want to bother you. I knew you'd be worried. I didn't want to distract you from your practice…So i didn't say anything." Yuri replied softly

"Yuri, I have no idea what caused this...But I promise you one thing, I am going to help you through this. I promise." Viktor said

Yuri met his eyes, oblivious at the time as to how broken that promise would be.

* * *

"Yuri, don't do it."

These words bring him back to reality. They are spoken in that same voice. The same smooth voice that spoke to him when the promise was made.

"Get the fuck away." The blonde growled, teeth clenched as to keep his voice from shaking.

"Not likely." Viktor says "Get away from the ledge. It isn't worth it."

"Why the fuck do you care now?" Yuri snapped sharply

Viktor is stunned by these words, unsure of how to respond to them at first.

"It's not worth it." Viktor says finally. "Why would you think I don't care?"

This has Yuri furious. He whips around immediately to this "You never cared. Ever!"

"Why would you think that… Yuri what's going on?" Viktor questions "Wait… this can't be about the program is i-"

"No!" Yuri cuts him off "I don't give a damn about the program. Not anymore. You broke another promise."

"Which prom- oh…" Viktor said, suddenly coming to the realization.

There are more footsteps on the roof, ones that trail over to Yuri. But Yuri's furious, tear-filled gaze is aimed directly at Viktor and Viktor alone.

"I've never been hurt by the fact you left. I know everyone leaves eventually. It was when. When you left. You left at the time i was most hurting and at my lowest point. And over time I never got better. I got worse. You broke your promise and my trust." Yuri yells, but his voice is cracking from the sadness he's suppressing.

"Yuri I'm so sorry…" Viktor replied.

Don't do that. Don't you fucking do that." Yuri's shaky yet harsh voice cuts "it's way too late… Way too late to apologize… I got worse after you left. You disappeared and I had nobody. Not a single person was there to help me… I tried Viktor, I seriously tried so hard to get better on my own, but I'm so done trying. It's not worth it anymore… Things have gotten so much worse."

"Yura…" A softer voice asked, placing a hand on Yuri's shoulder. "What's happened?"

"Yeah… Yuri talk to me… What's happened?" Viktor questions

"Just in the last year since you left, I've been hospitalized five times, placed in many rounds of treatment, put in more medications to try to see if there is something that helps me feel less suicidal. And Yakov and Lilia are always fighting when I'm not in treatment or the hospital." Yuri says, voice shaky with suppressed sobs as tears trailed down his too hollow cheeks. "I had to pull out of one of my assignments because I was in the hospital. I've been pushing myself so hard on the ice. It's gotten so bad Mila is already trying to convince Yakov to pull me out of the lineup next season. This is how bad things are getting. And not once did you take notice or were there to even try to convince me not to push so hard, not to hurt myself, not to skip my medications and meals. I tried and failed. I'm done trying"

By now, Yuri's body was trembling like a leaf. He couldn't take this anymore. He couldn't take this conversation. Couldn't take any of it.

In a startling set of moments, Otabek wraps his arms tightly around Yuri, keeping the unsteady boy upright. But instead of pushing him away, Yuri clings to him desperately.

It took a lot of hurt to bring Yuri to tears, but now he was so beyond hurt that the tears just fell naturally.

Otabek can tell, just by the feeling of the trembling of the small blonde in his embrace, that Yuri isn't just crying. His body is shaking with silent sobs and trembling from effort as if his body couldn't bear anything he was going through.

And yet, the skater of Kazakhstan did not think less of his young soldier.

Viktor takes a few steps forward, but Otabek shakes his head. If Viktor tries to be near or touch Yuri, the sixteen year old would snap again. Maybe he wouldn't hesitate to go back to the ledge and jump this time.

As time progresses, nobody says a word. Nobody moves. They all stay where they are, quiet as the night they stood in.

Yuri's breathing started becoming desperate at this point. As if his lungs had all the air knocked out of them.

He tried to pull his head back to breathe the night air, to breathe. But the more he thinks, the worse his breathing gets.

He can feel his heart rate speeding up, and it's terrifying. He can't be having a panic attack. Not now… not on top of a near suicide attempt and a self destructive mental state.

Yuri can feel his chest hurting as his breathing steadily gets even worse. By no means is he a stranger to this. He knows this feeling too well. But now with Otabek and Viktor here, especially _now_. He was close to screaming.

His thoughts are relentless and brutal. They come even worse than his suicidal mindset had produced them.

Physically at this point he wants nothing more than to die. He deserves to be. He's worthless. He's useless. He's never going to be good enough. He will never be good enough. He's weak. He doesn't deserve the medals he gets. He doesn't deserve anything. He knows all this.

By now, it's so compelling to break out of Otabek's hold and go back to the ledge.

Otabek's hug becomes restrictive. It feels like his best friend is squeezing him. And it hurts. It hurts his chest and ribs.

His long hair tangles at his neck and on his face. His silky blonde locks were threatening to strangle him, taunting at his lips and neck.

His t-shirt feels like sandpaper, brutally grating against his skin. His sweatshirt feels too heavy for his body to handle. And he still _could not breathe_.

Yuri hardly registers Otabek let go. Hardly, registers when his best friend takes his hands in his own, pulling one hand away from the other wrist. Yuri hadn't even realized he was rubbing his fragile wrists.

But he does hear something aside from his heartbeat and rapid breaths. He registers the smooth, calm voice he has heard so many times when he's been in tears after a brutal practice or a failed voice he would hear when he just needed someone to talk to.

"Yura… Please calm down." Otabek says, keeping his voice steady "Hey… You don't have to even open your eyes… Just breathe. Breathe… I'm right here. You're going to be okay."

* * *

Yuri had been fourteen when he first hurt himself.

The first time, it hadn't even been a lighter or a blade. It wasn't even entirely intentional.

He'd come in third place in a local match. One that wasn't entirely significant toward the Junior Worlds.

But oh man was he giving himself hell.

Both Mila and Viktor had insisted he had done well. But Yuri didn't believe them.

By the evening, he had been pacing his bedroom floor.

He could've had a cleaner step sequence. Or a higher jump. Or a cleaner skate.

Time ticked away and he kept pacing. Eventually, Yuri had simply grown furious at his own failures.

Out of nowhere, anger surged through him and he punched the wall.

He had expected it to hurt. But what he didn't expect was the distraction it provided. The physical pain was a distraction to the emotional pain.

A few weeks later, another incident lead him to punching a mirror.

He was sobbing, a complete mess of emotional pain from an absolutely failed practice. He'd been unfocused and couldn't do anything right. So he'd been sent home early.

He punched the mirror and cracked it. Pain shot through his hand as his knuckle got cut. The blood and pain distracted him, and it was sickly a pleasant distraction.

That was, until Viktor had rushed into the bathroom. He cleaned up the injury.

Then one day the rapid dawning of his last year in the Junior World Championship sent Yuri in a complete state of anxiety.

The memories of the punched mirror resurfaced as he was thinking of any way to escape his anxieties.

The blood, the pain. The things that gave him major release.

That was how he fell, surrendering himself to the temporary release of any blade he could get his hands on. Anything…

He made injuries where they would be unnoticeable. If anyone were to find out, he'd be sent away for treatment. He didn't want that. It would mean he would have to take a break from the ice. And he simply didn't deserve help. And in all truth, didn't feel he needed it.

So, as the next year passed, more cuts were made. Steadily the time between them decreased. Slowly he made more and more and more.

Then that night in the hotel room. That night that Viktor found out. That night the promise had been made.

The promise that soon became as broken and false as the smiles of the blonde promisee.

* * *

"Would you have actually done it?"

After persuasive actions that covered much negotiation over another hour, Yuri simply gave in and went to Otabek's hotel room.

As of the Kazakh skater's question, Yuri had finally calmed down. But coming down from his lapse of severe depression and panic, his body was physically exhausted.

His blonde hair was spread onto the pillow, a few small strands falling on his face as he laid on his side. His jacket had since been discarded and his injuries rewrapped.

Otabek was sitting on the bed, brushing his fingers through Yuri's hair. He occasionally braided a few strands.

Mindlessly, the blonde was stenciling patterns on the sheets with his slim fingers. He didn't immediately answer the question. Instead, he responded with a question of his own.

"How did you know where I would be? Or what I was thinking…" The Russian asked.

"When you're worried about something, you swim or go for a run." Otabek said "I went to your room, your running shoes were still there. And I know you wouldn't risk injury."

"So, how'd you know i wasn't anywhere else." Yuri questioned

"Because I then heard about your little argument with JJ. And I thought a little more and remembered you go outside when you're upset. Then… It all made sense." Otabek said.

Yuri was stunned someone remembered these things. It was stunning.

"How did you know what I was thinking" Yurio questioned.

"I'm not stupid. You're on anxiety medications and two antidepressants. And you have called me when you felt suicidal or like hurting yourself. I know you better than you think I do." Otabek said. "It was not heart to figure out from there."

Yuri was still shocked. The fact that someone did care enough to remember these things about them. Someone was concerned enough to help him and remember this.

"Would you have honestly done it Yuri? If Viktor or myself hadn't found you?" Otabek asked again.

Yuri hesitated, biting his lip "I was seriously considering it…. I was so temped…."

"Why?" Otabek asked

Yuri shook his head, hair rustling against the bedsheets. "You wouldn't know… It's complicated…"

Otabek's watchful eyes saw Yuri's green orbs trail to his own wrist, looking at the bandaging.

Gently, Otabek placed a hand on top of Yuri's hand

"Can I maybe take a guess?" Otabek questioned

Yuri shrugged, half-alert.

"You're hurt. You feel alone. You feel like nobody cares. You feel worthless, like you'll never amount to anything. And like you will never be good enough in what you do. As a skater or a human being." Otabek started talking "You feel unloved, like everyone would be better off if you died…. Am I hitting anything?"

"You hit everything…" Yuri gasped slightly "But, how do you know?"

Otabek shifted slightly, nudging Yuri to roll on his back. When the blonde did so, Otabek pulled up his sleeve. The rough marks were unmistakably self-induced.

"It hurts… I know… Trust me on that…" Otabek said softly "But in the long run… It isn't really worth it, not at all. But there is possible recovery."

Yuri scoffed "I don't have a better alternative…." Yuri sighed softly.

"Every other time you feel like skipping a meal, or have a blade, or think about taking your life or skipping medication… Call me. Every single time. I don't care what time it is, call me… I'll talk to you… And I'll be there for you in whatever way I can…. Even if it isn't physically next to you…" Otabek says "I do care about you…. A lot… I don't want anything bad happening to you…"

Otabek began running his hands through Yuri's hair again. The emotional strain of the night and Otabek's hands in his hair and his smooth voice were lulling the young Russian to sleep.

Yuri let his eyes close now. And before he fell asleep, he heard something that made him feel slightly okay.

"Rest now my little soldier… You are not alone anymore…."


End file.
